She dilutes me with her liquid gaze
I swirl and swirl and sink in her
She deals in lashes and glances
I’m a puppet unleashed by her claws
She’s got me in a packed bag
I’m taggin’ along to god’s own
She’s plural in a travelling glass
I’m split in two too many times
Our gazes collide in liquid crystals
And the stops are running by
We are getting closer
To where we part
She’s whole
I’m lost
In a corner of that fated smile
Lost
Lost
Lost
Lost
